Death by Pranks
by MoonKittyru
Summary: After a really bad night, Harry and Hermione start to plan how to kill someone with a prank as their weapon of choice. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Snoring and Pranks

After the adrenalin rush of the flight from Privet Drive across London to Grimmauld Place, Harry couldn't sleep. Well, it was the adrenaline but also everyone's refusal to tell him what is going on with Voldemort. Harry knew that the adults were trying to protect him, but didn't they realize that Voldemort wasn't going to wait for Harry to grow up before trying to kill him?

"SNARGHHHHH! Cor…. mmmmm…Buttons…spooooon…." Ron murmured in his sleep.

And now Ron's snoring and sleep-mumbles just added to Harry's frustration. Ron was…. is…. was…. IS Harry's best mate. But as bad as the Dursley's can be, Harry looks forward to the summer for one reason alone. He enjoyed having his own space that did not include one or more flatulating, messy, snoring boys. And as soon as Harry arrives at _his_ godfather's house, he is yet again forced to share with Ron. It wasn't like anyone (Mrs. Weasley) asked if he wanted to, let alone minded, sharing a room.

Rolling over so he was now facing Ron's bed, Harry was tempted to fire the rubber band he was playing with at Ron. Doing that would be the closest thing Harry could get to a stinging hex. Besides, for some reason firing a rubber band gave Harry a cathartic fission of glee. With the rubber band missile doing nothing to jolt Ron awake enough so he would shift and stop snoring, Harry ripped his blankets off his bed and grabbed his pillow. With a sigh of frustration, he turned towards the door and shuffled out of the room with the plan to sleep in the library or parlor. That is if he could find either room.

After trying what felt like a hundred doors and with the clock chiming 1 AM, Harry finally found the library. What Harry was not expecting to find, at least on this night, was Hermione camped out in the back in front of the fireplace with her own pillow and blankets.

"Um…Hi." Harry mumbled once Hermione looked up from her book. The look she shot at him once she did look up was a mix between "what now" and "please don't be mad." An interesting combination for an expression, but one that Hermione had perfected into an art form over their four-plus years of friendship. A sheepish grin and shrug of the shoulders, Harry's reply was a "sorry" and "not much." With a heavy sigh, eye roll, and shiver, Hermione told him he was forgive, he was just being a boy after all, and to get him and his blankets over here since she was cold.

Moving two of the settees together and draping their blankets over them, Harry and Hermione settled down for the long haul…or at least until morning. Harry's pillow was bunched at his back with Hermione's tucked against his side with her leaning into it and him. It was during their first year at Hogwarts that they started having late night rendezvous. The reason they started meeting up late at night wasn't for anything nefarious nor sexual, it was that they just had a few things in common. Beyond both being Muggle raised/born, Harry and Hermione were both light sleepers and major night owls. They would often stay up all night reading and talking about random things.

First year, Hermione didn't really have to worry about noise since all of her dorm-mates were pretty quiet sleepers. She tended to stay up because of being homesick and wrapped up in a good book. The lack of noise changed in second year though when Ginny came to Hogwarts. Apparently all Weasleys, be them by birth or marriage, snored and snored badly.

Harry though had three roommates who did not or could not stay quiet. Ron, being a Weasley, snored. But he also tended to talk in his sleep. Seamus, another snore-er, also recited poetry in his sleep. And it wasn't sweet innocent little nursery rhymes; no, he tended to recite limericks. The dirty the better apparently. The third culprit in "let's not allow Harry to sleep" plot was Dean Thomas. Though he didn't snore, Dean tended to sleep walk. Not so bad, until he would decide to play rugby in his sleep. Apparently, all of the beds and the boys in them were the opposing team that Dean had to tackle. So invariably, at least three nights out of every seven, Harry would end up in the common room reading or talking to Hermione.

Their current positions though, with Harry leaning against the backrest and Hermione leaning against him, occurred for the first time in their first year. It was a couple of fifth year prefects that originally caught them in the compromising situation.

-FLASH-BACK-

A month into their co-all-nighters, Harry and Hermione started talking beyond a meek "Hi" or "Good night." It was about a month after they started talking that the upper years started to find the two curled up on the couches fast asleep. It was the morning after the Troll Incident that Harry and Hermione woke to their most awkward situation.

Hermione was obviously very emotional after Halloween night, what with being nearly killed and running the risk of expulsion for lying to a professor. She knew she was going to have nightmares if she even attempted sleep that night, so Harry agreed to stay awake with her.

Trying as hard as she could, even using all the tricks she knew, Hermione could not concentrate on her book. And in her mind, that was nearly sacrilegious considering the book was Nancy Drew. Seeing that Hermione seemed to be re-reading the same page for ten minutes, Harry suggested an alternative.

"Wait here. I'm going to go grab something from my trunk." Harry whispered as he jogged up to his dormitory. When he returned, harry held a thick book in his hand and had his pillow and blankets balled up in his arms. "Here," he said as he spread his blankets out on the couch in front of the fireplace. "Lay down. I'll read to you and you just picture the story."

"Is that…Robert Jordan? His Wheel series? You read that? Why?" Hermione asked with disbelief and slight derision coloring her voice.

"The first few books are pretty good. It's as he tried to keep the story going that they get bad. Besides, it was either this or _Lord of the Rings_. And we both know that _Lord of the Rings_ is just too good to even consider falling asleep to." Harry said with mirth in his voice as he started to settle onto the floor next to the couch Hermione was on.

"Okay, but you have to sit up here with me. I'm not going to steal your pillow and blankets while you sit on the floor." Hermione said, trying to sound put upon but not quite able to hide the laughter from her face or voice.

The next morning, the fifth year prefects, Ciaran and Jenifer, found the two first years curled up on the couch. Again, not abnormal, but what caused the prefects to pause was the way the firsties were sleeping. Harry's pillow was on the middle cushion with both Harry and Hermione using it. And half of the blankets covered Hermione while the other half covered Harry. Pausing a moment to take a picture of the absolutely most adorable (blackmail worthy) sight, Ciaran and Jenifer carefully woke Harry and Hermione. From that night/morning on, whenever Harry and Hermione would head down to the commonroom, they made sure to grab their own pillows and blankets. Plus, they would grab the couch cushions from a couple of couches and spread them out as makeshift mattresses. The reading to eachother went from a tactic used when one of them was afraid of nightmares to something they would do everytime they both were awake late at night. It was decided though that Robert Jordan and his _Wheel of Time_ series would be saved for those nights when they hadn't slept well in a while.

**-FLASH-FORWARD-**

As they settled in on the settees, Hermione accioed the latest _Wheel of Time_ book that they were reading. When it arrived and floated into her open palm, she held it up for Harry to see. Telling him by that action alone, that if was ready and willing, she would start reading. Otherwise they could talk for a little bit.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry said, "You know, not tonight. I think I just want to talk."

"About what?" Hermione asked as she laid the book on the floor with her other things.

"I don't know. I'm just so…so…frustrated. Dumbledore expects me to tell him everything. Yet he refuses to actually look at me let alone talk to me. Sirius is willing to talk to me, but Mrs. Weasley won't let him. Mrs. Weasley keeps trying to be my mom but doesn't seem to realize she is not only smothering me but also making it worse. I don't need a mom; I have one, she died for me. My best mate lied to me and didn't tell me what was going on in our world. And my best friend seems to have forgotten the mobiles we bought just so we _could_ talk during the summer.

"But what is really frustrating me is that all of the wizarding world looks to me like I am their Messiah and kill Tom when he comes back, but refuses to listen when I try to warn them about Riddle. Plus every adult we know seems to refuse to train us so we can protect ourselves." Harry said, his voice rising from a whisper to nearly shouting by the end of his rant.

Rolling over so she was sitting on her knees, Hermione hushed Harry while asking for forgiveness with puppy-dog eyes. "I can't say anything about _Professor_ Dumbledore, Sirius, or Mrs. Weasley. But I can explain about no info from Ron or me when we did write. Apparently in the wizarding world a parent can charm their children so that they can't share 'family' secrets. And since _Professor_ Dumbledore is my in-loco-parentis when I'm here, he can place that charm on me. Plus, any muggle electronics that I brought got taken away," Hermione explained.

"And what do you mean about you having to kill Riddle? I'm not denying it, I'm just trying to clarify it," she questioned with her hands raised to stop Harry from leaving.

"How Riddle acted at The Cemetery," Harry started to explain. "Tom could have let any of his…MorbidMunchers," Hermione giggled at the new name, "try to kill me. _HE_ was the one to insist on a duel. _HE_ is the one that made this all personal. And I am saying that even after everything with my parents and the Dursleys." Harry replied, with a small smile at having made Hermione laugh.

Feeling relieved that he had gotten all of that out and knowing that Hermione could tell now was not the time for more questions, Harry settled back into his pillow. After five minutes of silence passed, just staring into the fireplace, he opened his mouth about to ask Hermione about why she was up when he got interrupted.

"Ok…then…since no one is going to train you, how about we try to figure out our own ways to kill Tom. And the funnier, the better," Hermione said, her eyes lighting up with glee and plots abounding. When Hermione got that look in her eyes, Harry knew the best course of action was to simply sit back and enjoy the show.

"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked with his own gleam matching Hermione's.

Reaching down to where she had gently discarded her books, Hermione grabbed a notebook and pen. "Let's think of different embarrassing or funny or weird ways to kill Moldyshorts. Then we can try to plan out how we would have to go about each method of slaying so we can possibly pull it off," she answered as she snuggled into her pillow and Harry's side.

"You mean like plan his death by pranks?" Harry said as a Cheshire grin spread across his face.

Nodding and arranging the notebook on her knees, Hermione said, "Yeah, exactly. And I've got one…."

(**AN**: sorry to leave it at a cliffie, but my plan is each method is going to be a chapter. See you next time. And if you have any requests/ideas, please let me know. BTW: reviews, while not necessary, are appreciated.)


	2. Death by Dinosaur

AN: I should have done this on the first chapter, but I kind of forgot to. I DO NOT own any of these characters that might be recognizable from JK Rowling's work of fictions. The people that do own these characters either: lives in a house in Scotland and has red hair; or lives in a Mansion in Beverly Hills that the movies paid for. The only things I own are the nicknames for Voldemort. But please, feel free to use them; just give me a little bit of credit if you do.

Nodding while starting to smirk, Hermione said, "I've got one. Have you ever heard of the American show _Barney and Friends_?" Feeling Harry shake his head no, she went on to explain.

"Bit of a back history. My great-aunt was a war bride for a Yank during WWII. After the war, they moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts. When my mum was little, her family would visit my great-aunt every other summer. Once I was born, my parents decided to continue that tradition with me. So about every two years, I am dragged across the pond to visit Mum's extended family. The worse part is that I am the oldest of all my second cousins by quite a few years. That means I know more about American children's shows than I really want to know.

"And because of the age gap, I'm often 'asked' to baby-sit the younger kids at these get togethers. A few of them absolutely love this show _Barney_, where Barney is this giant purple dinosaur that teaches everyone about tolerance and love through his song _I love you_." Hermione explained as shudders racked her body. Mumbling about needing bleach for her brain and hydrogen peroxide for her mouth, Harry considered what Hermione had just told him.

"It's really that bad? Really? It can't be worse than _Teletubbies_, can it?" Harry said, trying to laugh at the absurdity of that idea. Something being worse than the _Teletubbies_ was just not possible in his mind.

Even upside down, Hermione's level four-death-glare was enough to strike fear in the hearts of crocodiles the world over. "I will say this one time only Potter. It. Is. Worse," Hermione ground out from between clenched jaws.

Knowing that look and tone of voice and the danger to Harry it foretold, he did the only thing he could think of to properly apologize to an irate Hermione. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezed like no tomorrow and raspberried her on the shoulder. Laughing her true belly laugh (one of Harry's favorite sounds), Hermione squeezed his arms and token squirmed from the raspberry.

"Okay. So we've established _Barney_ is annoying. But how does that lead to Moldywarts dying?" Harry asked as he tried to avoid Hermione's retaliation tickling.

"Simple, and I am very disappointed you didn't already figure it out," Hermione said. "I find a charm that will allow us to program a wireless to play one song and only one song over and over again. I then find another charm that allows for the wireless to transfigure itself into an ice pick after every 100 song repetitions."

It was at this point that Harry finally caught on to Hermione's plan for this prank. Chuckling, Harry picked up the idea and continued from where Hermione left off. "Then **we** find a charm that makes the wireless follow Wartyshorts everywhere while avoiding anything, magical or otherwise, thrown at it. And once **we** find the charms needed, you can help me figure out how to chain them together to cast. But how do I get close enough to cast the charms."

With an elbow jab in the side when Harry left her out of the casting, Hermione and Harry settled down to figure out how they might be able to get Riddle out of hiding so they could cast the charms needed for their prank. As she thought, Hermione started doodling in her notebook while Harry tried not to fidget while watching her random doodles take shape.

"We could…no that wouldn't work," Hermione started to say.

"How about…no," Harry tried this time.

Another five minutes passed before either tried to say anything.

Harry suddenly sat up straight, a sudden smirk forming on his face. "I could always post a mobile to him and call him once he gets it…the ring tone could even be that Barney son."

"That might work, the mobile part. But we should probably make it sound like a phone from the 1940s. That way he has a better idea what the phone does." Hermione said, excited about this new idea.

Locking gazes, Harry and Hermione realized the idea they were contemplating. It was just absurd. Slowly they started smiling then grinning. When their grins changed to chuckles, they knew they might be in danger of waking the house. And five minutes later they realized they had at least woken a couple of people when they saw Sirius and Remus stagger into the library.

The kids' hyena like laughter woke the two Marauders and made them think that some how Bellatrix had gotten into the house through the library. When the adults realized that it was just Harry and Hermione, they tried to get the two kids to explain what they were finding so funny. But that proved nearly impossible since the only words that either Harry or Hermione could get out were "Moldywarts," "Barney," and "mobile." Trying as hard as they could at 3 AM, neither Sirius nor Remus could understand what the kids were trying to explain. But what the adults did know was that if it was able to get Harry to smile let alone laugh, they weren't going to question it. Instead, they shrugged and turned around to head back to their beds, firing a silencing ward at the library doors on their way out. Besides, figuring out how teenagers think needs a lot more power than they could get at 3 AM. It requires coffee and more sleep than they were working on.

_AN: One thing I want to clarify here. All of these will only be ideas. They will never actually go through with their plans. I got this idea from conversations I've had with friends when talking about exes and crappy break-ups. So I'm going to repeat, THERE WILL BE NO KILLING OF VOLDEMORT BY THE USE OF PRANKS. But I'll still take ideas if you want to see a possible prank planned._


	3. Attack

AN: I do not own any of the characters or settings within this story. I do own the situations and thought process. Many of the interactions I have these characters do, either my friends or I have actually done…especially the plotting of how to kill someone. What? We're a little violent. No one is ever actually harmed in the plotting.

After figuring out a way to murder someone using a purple dinosaur as the weapon, the two psychopaths-in-training fell asleep curled up in front of the fire. Even falling asleep at four in the morning, Harry and Hermione were still the first to wake. Knowing that four hours of sleep, while about their usual amount, still meant that no verbal communication would be allowed until a shower and at least both had two cups of coffee. So with a finger comb of her hair and a scrunching of her nose, Hermione "told" Harry she would see him in the kitchen after they both had showered. She knew her hair was a mess and since Harry was a boy, he obviously needed to bathe before he would be allowed in her presence today. A light tug of a curl and tickle of her sides, Harry let Hermione know the feeling was mutual.

Thankfully the rest of the house did not wake and start making their ways into the kitchen until Harry had already had his usual four cups of coffee and was slowly working on his fifth. All of the early risers at Hogwarts, Professors included, knew that you don't say anything to Harry Potter until he has had at least two cups of coffee. And if you want an answer that is polite and polysyllabic, wait until he has had four cups. Hermione's coffee addiction was only slightly less severe. With her, she was safe after one cup and would start talking on her third.

Remus was the first to wander into the kitchen. Having heard their laughter the night before, he ignored what Harry and Hermione were talking about. Besides, coffee is always more important. The next person to walk in was Tonks. Actually, she more tripped into the room than actually walked. Grabbing a cup of tea, she settled down at the table, listening to Harry and Hermione talk about the horror of some tubby things and something purple.

"Okay, we both know Teletubbies. So how is Barney worse?" Harry asked while sipping his coffee.

"Do not say that name. Saying that name is like calling Beetlejuice, bad for your health." Hermione muttered. She was allowed to be a little bitchy; she had only started on her third cup.

"Besides," Hermione said, "the Tubbies don't talk much, they just kind of coo. And the narrator, while annoying with what he says, kind of has a soothing voice. I've fallen asleep while that show is playing. Now that other show, there is no redeeming qualities…. You've just made me throw up a little in my mouth just thinking about it."

"Ah, I am sorry. Here, as my penance, I shall re-fill your mug for you." Harry replied, looking completely un-apologetic.

"Mmmmm, coffee…you are forgive." Hermione hummed as she started the cup of coffee (her fourth) that she would now nurse for the rest of the morning.

Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Fred and George couldn't help but shake their heads at the antics of Harry and Hermione. There was one thing in favor of waking up early, with Ron nowhere around, Harry and Hermione were cute and funny with how they interacted. Harry would actually be (somewhat) serious and Hermione loosened up enough to giggle and joke. Another detail everyone noticed was how truly self-sufficient Harry was. Even with Kreacher's grumbles, Harry refused to be served. He even went so far as to suggest Kreacher go clean what he needed to while Harry took care of the morning beverages.

About the time Harry and Hermione started to debate (with some input from Tonks) the merits of G.I. Joe and Justice League, a thundering noise echoed from the stairs. Only two things in the world, outside of the wild of course, sound like a herd of elephants stampeding. Cats running around and Ron Weasley heading towards food. Since the only cat that was currently at Grimmauld Place was Crookshanks and he was trying to hypnotize Tonks into giving him her toast and kippers, which meant the noise had to be Ron. And where Ron went looking for food, Mummy wouldn't be far behind to make it for him.

Right on cue, Ron came through the door and plopped down next to Hermione. Trying to be suave, he put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and started to monopolize the conversation with his incessant rambles/rants about chess and Quidditch. Everyone else in the kitchen rolled his or her eyes. Harry and Hermione because this was normal with Ron, everyone else because the conversation had just started to get good with a debate going on which superhero would win in a fight. Though no one understood who Batman or Superman or Spiderman or even Ironman really was.

"Hey Don Juan," Harry said to Ron, "I don't think you want your mum catching you dressed like that. She'll slaughter you."

With a glance down, Ron wondered what Harry was talking about. He didn't see any problem with his clothes. They didn't have any more food stains than normal.

While Ron was distracted, Hermione shot Harry a grateful look and shrugged Ron's arm off her shoulders. Standing up, she headed over to the counter and made herself some more toast. And just like she knew would happen, once she sat down Ron stole a piece of toast. Thankfully it was the piece that she knew he would take.

"Thanks Herms, you're the best," Ron said as he ate the pilfered toast. "Ew! Yuck! That tastes worse than earwax. What did you put on my toast?"

"Your toast Ronald?" Hermione asked, her frigid tone causing everyone to back away from the table. "I put some vegemite on the toast I made for myself. Don't like it then don't steal my food."

Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley heard Ron complaining about the toast as she walked in. "My poor baby. Did Hermione give you some of that nasty Muggle food again? I told you Hermione, nothing Muggle is allowed in this house."

Harry was tempted to tell Mrs. Weasley that he better leave than since he was and (in that moment) would rather be Muggle than have to eat her crappy cooking another day. Hermione, knowing what Harry wanted to say, gave a small shake of her head and just smiled at Molly. Hermione knew that there was no winning against Mrs. Weasley. In her eyes, her children could do no wrong, especially Ron and Ginny.

As Mrs. Weasley continued to scold Hermione and Harry continued simmering in anger, everyone knew where the metaphorical hand basket was heading if Harry wasn't calmed down. Knowing Harry's temper and the easiest way to calm him at that moment, Hermione pushed a piece of toast at Harry. Written in the spread was a single "n". Grabbing the toast and nearly moaning in pleasure at the taste, Harry's eyes told Hermione that she was his favorite until the next day…. There is only so much a single slice of toast with Nutella could do to make him happy. If it had been a plateful, then Hermione would have been his favorite for the whole week.

"Harry dear, you need to eat more. You are way to thin. I'll make you a nice fry-up. And why are you drinking that horrid stuff. Here is a nice cuppa. Hermione! Come over here so I can teach you how to properly cook like good witch." Mrs. Weasley said, verbally steamrolling over any protestations.

"And why is that cat in _my_ kitchen? I have told you to keep that think out of here." Molly berated Hermione as she tripped over Crookshanks and nearly scalded the cat and herself with the tea she was carrying.

"Molly," Tonks interrupted, " could you show me how to cook? I just got my own flat and would like to be able to cook without burning anything. My mum only cooked the Muggle was." With Mrs. Weasley's attention away from Harry and Hermione, Tonks gestured behind her back for the two to flee the kitchen.

A wave of thanks reflected in the window and out the door scurried both of them. Hermione, being a child of London, knew how to get around on the buses from an early age. Harry, learning for survival, taught himself the buses after having been left behind by the Dursleys a few too many times. Because of this, neither Harry nor Hermione liked the idea of being in the city and not knowing exactly where they were.

Grabbing their jackets, they headed towards the entrance with the plan of figuring out where they were firmly planted in their minds. An echoing cough announced that they weren't alone; the twins were also standing in the entrance hall. Turning around, Harry and Hermione saw Fred and George with all five fingers held up and a gesture that Hermione and Harry would take the blame for the next prank the Twins pulled. That was the cue to start the silent negotiations for not snitching on sneaking out. Even knowing what they would most likely end up accepting as the terms, all four teens still went through the process. It was tradition and fun after all.

Harry held up a single finger and gestured that silence would be kept. The twins returned with four fingers each and Harry or Hermione would run interference. With a shake of no, Hermione returned with two fingers and an offer of silence and ignorance over the next prank. Fred (and George) was about to counteroffer again when movement was heard on the stairs from the upper levels and from the kitchen below. Quickly, so that they wouldn't be caught, Harry offered the Twins five sickles total and help both planning and pulling off their next prank if they ran interference today. A handshake sealed the deal and Harry fled through the door being held open by Hermione. Knowing they didn't have long, Harry and Hermione turned left and quickly disappeared down the road.


	4. of the Autobahn

AN: I do not own any of the characters or settings within this story. I do own the situations and thought process. Many of the interactions I have these characters do, either my friends or I have actually done…especially the plotting of how to kill someone. What? We're a little violent. No one is ever actually harmed in the plotting.

After walking for a couple blocks, Harry and Hermione bought some chips and headed to the park across from Sirius' house. Sitting on a bench where they could see the whole street and the upper windows of Number 13, just in case the Twins signaled the coast was clear to return, the two settled down for some people watching.

Shooting an inquisitive look at Harry, Hermione quirked an eyebrow in puzzlement at why he was laughing. Shaking his head in resignation while still chuckling, Harry gestured asking for a moment to collect his thoughts and be able to breathe and talk around his laughs.

"I was thinking about our conversation last night," he said.

"Oh no, you were thinking. That's kind of dangerous," Hermione replied as Harry bumped her shoulder in retaliation for the sarcasm. Laughing, Hermione said, "Which part and what about it?"

"The prank deaths. And I just thought of one," Harry said, a smirk present in his voice.

"Okay…what is it?… Harry, what is your idea?" Hermione asked. When all Harry did was point at the street in front of them, Hermione was ready to sock his shoulder. But all the expression on his face said was for her to wait and she would understand. A beat later, Hermione did understand what Harry's plan was when a Mazarati went screaming pass them.

"You know that playing with oversized toys like that can be dangerous," she said as her ever-present notebook and pen appeared. "So what is your plan for this one?"

"I don't know for sure. All I can think of is that I would love to see Tom…hell, any wizards really, try to cross the street without a Muggle-raised around to help. I have a feeling that it would be pretty entertaining," Harry said.

Hermione hummed in acknowledgement as she started writing. Knowing she was listening, though it was with only half an ear, Harry continued thinking aloud about cars and killing Voldemort and the road and killing Voldemort and traffic and killing Voldemort. He had just hit an interesting idea. Which would cause more damage killing Voldemort: a land rover, a range rover, a jeep, or a hummer? Figuring a land rover won for sheer British-ness, Harry considered the fatality of: a double-decker bus, a small tank, or a big-rig.

"Does it have to be a street he crosses," Hermione suddenly asked, "What about a highway?"

"What, like the M-1?" Harry said.

"Yeah, or even the Autobahn. I've heard of a stretch of highway in Romania that is pretty dangerous. Then you have the tracks in Milan for Formula 1 racing. There is even a racetrack in Germany that is open to the public. Use of the track only costs a few Euro per lap." Hermione explained.

"Miss Granger, I like the way you think," Harry said throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulders and giving a squeeze. "And I think I'll go with option number a.) the Autobahn. Oh oh oh, what do we have here? You're writing down what I've been saying? I knew you were just as sadistic as me."

Falling back on the most mature response Hermione had, she did the only thing anyone being teased could do. Looking Harry in eye, she crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. "So there," she said.

"Hehehe, point made. Okay, so we have the where and the why is a 'no duh.' Who is the victim is another obvious answer, but what about the weapons. The order could drive the cars, but not enough know a little bit let alone enough about the Muggle world to be safe behind the wheel. That would mean you and I would have to do the driving; possibly even with Remus, Tonks, and Sirius helping out." Harry said.

"Let's say we do the driving," Hermione said. "Magical transportation wards would have to be put up. Same with something to keep Tom from just walking away. What about an e-fence or e-collar? That would require less magic and keeps with the idea of using the world he's turned his back on against him."

"You know, I really don't want to do the driving at all. I would much rather sit back with popcorn and enjoy the show. An e-collar and invisible fence would be fun and probably our best bet. He…he he…heheha…hahaha, we could make him play real life Frogger on the Autobahn. Get him there by turning…Snape's mark into a portkey. In fact, set the coordinates so they drop him right in the middle of the road with oncoming traffic surrounding him. Hey look; I think that's our signal we need to get back while the coast is clear," Harry said. His mood dropping to resigned when he spotted the Twins' signal.

Standing up, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up after her. Glancing at him, Hermione thought Harry looked like he was going to his own execution. And she didn't like that look on his face, so going with the only thing she could think of, Hermione started to whistle. The song that came out of her mouth was the theme from _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back_. It got Harry laughing and as morbid and macabre their recent conversations have been, Hermione was glad that Harry was smiling again. Hopefully he wouldn't lose that good mood anytime soon, especially if Hermione has any say.


	5. Rabbit Fleshwound

AN: Don't own the characters and not making any money from this piece of fiction. The situation that Harry finds himself in is a subject very dear to my heart. I do not find it amusing and I only this because it is a way that I myself have dealt with a similar mood. Plus, my sister's rabbit is full of attitude and dared to head-butt me when I went to feed it.

As they walked into Grimmauld Place, the two escape artists continued talking about the Autobahn and Frogger.

"Hey," Hermione said bumping shoulders with Harry, "I know the Autobahn and I could probably figure out Frogger, but just tell what it is, please?"

"I can't believe you don't know Frogger. It is like one of the best arcade games. How can you not know Frogger," Harry asked.

"I read," Hermione bit out with a tap to the back of Harry's head.

"Right, you were actually wanted in your home so you _could_ stay in and read. Unlike me, where I had to flee the house to be able to breathe without the threat of being hit…Right, Frogger. The point of the game is to get this frog across the road to the river without being hit by a car," Harry explained as he shut the door and took Hermione's coat.

Hermione really wanted to just latch onto Harry and hug away what his relatives did to him. But because of them, he was not an overly affectionate person. He tolerated Hermione hugging him because he knew she needed to. Yet when he was in one of his moods, the best way to show him affection was to not touch him. Knowing this and also knowing what she needed, Hermione reached out to brush Harry's hand. Only Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed as his way of apologizing for being an emotional git and that he knew how much his best friend put up with from and for him.

With a heavy slathering of charm and copious use of the puppy-dog-eyes, Harry and Hermione were able to get pass the majority of the adults. With Ron and the few that they could not charm, a few bald faced lies saved them from getting (too badly) in trouble. Besides, it wasn't like anyone could prove they had left the building. Apparently, Buckbeak provided the perfect alibi.

Thankfully things settled down for a few days. At least, things settled down to the point where Harry was not tempted to commit justifiable homicide. It was a night about a week after their Great Escape that found Hermione looking for Harry so they could talk.

That night, somehow, Harry had been able to pick up BBC Radio on the Wireless. Everyone else had been arguing and trying (while failing miserably) to change the station to some wizarding music the news came on. There was a report of some fatalities in a unit fighting in Afghanistan. Hermione say the blood drain from Harry's face when the anchor mentioned a Corporal Polkiss among the deceased. While all of the adults were so wrapped up in their arguments, Harry quietly pushed his plate away and left the kitchen. Hermione had been unable to get away from Ron and to the door fast enough to catch and stop Harry from leaving.

Worried about Harry, Hermione started searching the house looking for him. Since Harry tended to like the dark and quiet while brooding, Hermione looked in the rooms that hadn't been cleaned or that Mrs. Weasley had declared that off-limits. In one of the off-limit rooms, Hermione noticed a window cracked just enough for fingertips to fit underneath and pull open. Stepping out on the Juliet balcony, Hermione noticed that the ivy next to her and leading up to the roof looked disturbed. Almost like someone had climbed up right there. Figuring she might as well look, Hermione climbed the ivy and popped her head up so she was looking over the eaves. Unfortunately all she saw was a pair of soles to some Chucks (_Converse_) about three inches from her nose. Those shoes could only belong to Harry though since he was the only other person in the house that wore shoes that were not made from some mythical beast.

Tapping the toe of Harry's shoe, Hermione reached out to be helped over the edge onto the roof. Settling down so they were both comfortable, Hermione noticed that there was a nest of sorts surrounding them. Apparently Harry was the culprit in the cases of the missing pillows, blankets, radio and self-filling mugs. Grabbing a mug of hot chocolate and wrapping up in a blanket, Hermione focused on the night sky. Waiting for Harry to talk if he wanted to, Hermione scanned the sky to see if she could spot anything. She easily found the _Orion_ constellation with Regulus in the belt and Sirius at his side. Scanning some more, she found a couple planets as well as the Pleidians.

"I knew a Polkiss back on Privet," Harry said. "Technically, I knew a family named Polkiss. The youngest, Piers, was friends with Dudley; and we both know what that meant. But Piers' older brother, Chris, he used to look out for me in the neighborhood. We were pretty close.

"After he graduated a couple years ago, he signed up for the army as a medic. He was deployed to Afghanistan…I think that was him on the radio."

If Hermione had not glanced at Harry right then, she would never have seen the tear creeping down his cheek into his hair.

"Oh Harry," she murmured, lacing their fingers together. "Do you want to go see his family?"

Nodding, Harry replied, "Yeah, I think I have…no, I _need_ to. If only so I can say goodbye."

Silence permeated the pair of stargazers. Hermione continued looking for constellations and generally using the time on the roof as a refresher for Astronomy. Harry just tried to find constellations to keep his mind off of what was going on in the muggle world.

"Wonder if it was a rabid bomber," Harry mumbled a little while later.

"Um, Harry, did you say you wondered if it was a 'Rabbit Bomber'?" Hermione asked, utterly confused and trying not to smile at the idea.

"Huh? What? No. Where did you get that idea?" Harry replied, coming out of his daze.

"It sounded like you said you were wondering if it was a rabbit bomber," Hermione explained.

Sitting up and looking at her with a 'what-the-he-' look on his face, Harry thought about what he had said.

"Nah, I said rapid bomber."

"Oh, okay." Hermione said.

Five minutes later, Hermione heard a shift in Harry's breathing. It sounded like he was giving a sad chuckle.

"Rabbit bombers. Wonder if they are anything like cow trebuchets? Mind a rabbit bomber wound would be merely a flesh wound."

"Did you just quote Monty Python, and badly at that?" Hermione gasped. Knowing that Harry was trying to lighten the mood, she went along with it.

"But of course. Hey, do you thing rabbit bombers would be a good way to prank Moldyshorts?" Harry asked.

Gazes locked, Harry and Hermione started to laugh. Though the joy never reached his eyes, the sound and way he laughed told Hermione all she needed to know. Harry was mourning but he would be okay. And if he wasn't, Hermione was pretty sure she could find some rabbit bombers to smother Harry with cute fluffy bunny attitude. Or have a shirt made for him.

AN: I have actually had conversations like that. One minute someone is really depressed, a comment is misheard and a conversation evolves from there. The laughter of the conversation is never enough to actually dissipate the sadness, but it is enough to lighten the mood and let everyone know that it may/does get better.


	6. Sandwich Ninjas

Harry and Hermione did not come in off the roof until nearly lunch the next day. When they did appear, it was to grab a couple sandwiches only to disappear into the house again. This patter continued for a few days, appear to grab some food and disappear into the house. Looking as hard as they could, Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley could not find either of them. Sirius refused to look, claiming that Harry needed to have some time to his self. When Remus started to off, it was only Sirius' pointy elbow and even pointier glare that stopped him from finishing the offer. After not being able to find either of the sandwich ninjas for a couple of days, Mrs. Weasley tried to order Kreacher to find them for her. He refused to so, claiming it was because Molly was a blood traitor. The real reasons though were because Sirius had ordered him not and that Harry and Hermione were actually nice to Kreacher. While they did things for themselves, they also left some things for the elderly House-elf to do. Plus, Harry was the heir to the Black fortune, so if he did not want to be found then he would not be.

It was Fred and George that ended up finding Harry and Hermione. The Twins found them when Fred stumbled up a guest room in the attic that had yet to be cleaned. Thinking it would be a good place to plan and test new products, George quickly grabbed their supplies and the two dove into the room before their mom (or siblings) could find them.

As they took a step away from the door, Fred realized the room wasn't as empty as originally thought. They heard some murmuring as they walked out of the sitting area and into the bedroom proper. When they stepped around the armoire that blocked the view of the bed, the Twins heard a most interesting conversation.

"…Lumberjack song is funny, I still prefer their Philosophers one more. Probably for the educational reasons," Hermione said. "Now which skit do you prefer?"

"Hmmm, that is a tough one. They had some really good ones. Especially the Ministry of Silly walks. Though I will have to say the Four Yorkshire men is a favorite. Out of their movies though, I refuse to choose a favorite. What about you?" Harry answered.

"That is easy. 'Life of Brian' or 'Holy Grail' because- Oh, hi guys." Hermione said.

"Hi/Hi," the Twins waved when spotted.

"What are you two up to today?" Fred and George switched off asking.

"Not much," Harry answered. "Hey Hermione, if you think they're funny to watch normally, you should try upside down."

Laughing, Hermione flipped over onto her back hanging her head over the edge of the bed. "What about you two? What are you guys up to?"

"Um…not much. Just trying to find somewhere to test pranks without Mum hearing," Fred and George replied, volleying words back and forth.

"Really?" Harry said. "What is this one?" He asked as he flipped onto his belly and pulled out a laser pointer for Crookshanks to chase.

"Different kind of Canary Creams?" Hermione asked as she stole the pointer from Harry and tried to see if 'Shanks could climb walls.

"Nah," Fred answered.

"Fake wands," George explained while not explaining.

"Really? Cool," Harry said.

"What do they do?" Hermione asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out. We know that we want something funny-"

"-But we don't know what exactly. The idea is that the wand looks-"

"-Like a real wand, but once you wave it, it changes. We-"

"-Just don't know what to change the wand into. You-"

"-Two have any ideas?" Fred and George explained in their tennis match speech.

"Well

-You could

-always do

-light-sabers or

-plastic swords

-even Nerf guns. But we thinks the-best idea-would be-rubber chickens." Harry and Hermione volleyed back and forth finishing their thought together. (Hey, what is good for the Twins can be pulled off better by the Sandwich Ninjas.)

"Okay. A couple of things.

"-One, if that is how we

"-look and sound when

"-we talk

"Cool" Fred and George finished saying together.

"Two, what is a light-saber or Nerf gun? We've heard of a rubber chicken just not the others." They said.

"Oh dear," Hermione said.

"We really need to get you to a Muggle toy store." Harry said. Grabbing Hermione's wrist and glancing at her watch, he said, "Meet us at the front door in thirty minutes and do not wear anything too magical. Plus, you have to provide the distraction."

With a nod of acknowledgement, the foursome split to their rooms to prepare for their rendezvous at the front door. Hermione went to make a shopping list while the twins plotted the distraction. Harry though had his own mission. He had an idea of what Sirius was going through constantly locked inside a house he did not want to be in. And knowing how much he loved pranks, Harry had a prank he wanted to get Sirius' help on. The four kids (or Marauders-in-training as Sirius called them) were going to sneak out. Sirius' part of the plan, at least that Harry hoped, was join them as Padfoot. Not the most ideal arrangement, but it would get Sirius out for a little while.

Once Sirius heard the plan, he was all for it. He was so willing to get out of Grimmauld Place that if Harry had asked him to transfigure himself into a French Poodle with the bows and perfume, Sirius would have only asked for the color of bows required. Though if he had been asked to change into a Chihuahua, Sirius would have been required to hex Harry.

Thirty minutes later found the four teens and one wolfhound at the front door. Before the distraction could be implemented Hermione first had to fix what the twins were wearing.

"Fred, no. Absolutely not and no way in Hell. You will not be leaving this house wearing a neon orange dragon hide suit. You too George, no neon dragon hide suits. You can keep the shirts on, but go put some jeans and trainers on. And grab a hoodie like Harry's. We want to blend in, not stand out.

"As for you Paddy, I am sorry but you need a collar and leash. When we get to our destination, I'm going to put a vest on you so you can go in with us." Hermione said.

When the twins returned, this time properly attired for Muggle London, it was their turn to throw a spanner in the works.

"We tried, we really did, but we couldn't think of any distraction that did not lead right back to us. Sorry," Fred explained.

"That's fine," Harry said. "I have a back up plan. No one says a word; just let me do all the talking.

"Lady Black, may I have a moment of your time? I have a small arrangement I would like to make with you…Thank you Ma'am. I know how your portrait was hung and I have the means to remove it. But I won't at this time if you do something for me. Create a distraction that will get everyone away from the front hall long enough for us to leave and get back in later." Harry said.

"Why should I you dirty half-blood?" Lady Black bit out.

"Because I am willing to burn your portrait. And because I am the heir to this house. I am assuming you would like to see your home returned to its former glamour at some point in the near future?" Harry said.

Her glare turning into a smirk, Lady Black said, "Are you sure you are not a Slytherin? You have a deal. I will give you five minutes to get out. I'll even give you three hours before I create a distraction again to get you back in."

With a shallow bow of thanks, Harry turned towards his cohorts to see looks of awe on their faces. A shrug of shoulders explained perfectly what Harry was thinking. It was Lady Belladonna Black's home; therefore he was treating it and her with respect. Besides, being a little sneaky got him what they needed.

A tap on the portrait frame and Lady Black commenced the distraction from her portrait in the study down the hall from the kitchen. As everyone rushed to try and quiet her, Harry and his cohorts snuck out and headed towards the local shopping center down the street.

Padfoot ran around the foursome acting like a puppy. Yapping at any passing walker and lunging at the squirrels. (Never trust squirrels, they'll try to steal your sanity. At least that's what Padfoot thought.) As they reached the shopping mall, Harry pulled up short as Hermione put the aid-dog vest onto Padfoot.

"Paddy…Padfoot…SIRIUS!" Hermione yelled, lightly shaking Sirius to get his attention. "Now pay attention. You have to be on your best behavior or you will have to head back home. So…BEHAVE!"

Cocking his head to the side and tilting his ears forward, Sirius gave a woof of confusion. Apparently he did not understand what Hermione meant.

Chuckling, Harry crouched down and scratched Padfoot's chest. "I think she means less Labrador puppy and more French Poodle attitude," Harry explained.

With a bark of understanding and a lick of the hand all around, the four teenagers and one wolfhound set off for the mall and toy store within.

_AN: Don't own and kind of happy that it's that way. Not owning means I get to treat the characters like an Aunt, fill them full of sugar and return 'em to their parents right before the sugar high. Thank you to everyone that has reviewed. I really appreciate it; so much so in fact that everyone gets a plate of cookies just for themselves. I got a couple of reviews commenting on the melancholy of the last chapter. Sorry about that. (Not really.) I've been in that kind of a situation before and really did use some pretty macabre humor to get through it. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the next one. They're a bit of a two parter._


	7. Duel to the Rubber Chicken

It couldn't be helped; the teens spent the entire time at the mall laughing at Padfoot and his antics. He was just too much of a bedraggled caricature of a poodle to be taken seriously. His tail was raised to full mast and head held at a jaunty angle with his nose 45 degrees into the air. It was just a comical sight. But what really made the picture was the fact his eyes were halfway closed and anytime the group passed a trash bin or another dog, Padfoot gave a harrumph of displeasure like it was the others' fault he had to pass it.

Three hours later, the tumbling of the front door locks could be heard. That is if Lady Black hadn't been screaming about blood traitors or Muggle filth and cursing so bad that a Marine would have blushed. With the door open a crack; Padfoot stuck his nose through, not smelling anyone he pushed his head the rest of the way through to confirm the coast was clear. A wag of his tail signaled for everyone to pile through the door and make like lemmings for their hideout. (Which is really just that bedroom in the attic. Apparently Buckbeak makes for an excellent guard.) As they made it to the foot of the stairs, George being the last one to pass gently tapped on Lady Black's frame to let her know they were back and the distraction could end.

As the group reached the first floor landing, Padfoot changed back into Sirius and he peeled off from the group with a jaunty salute and whistle on the way to his study. He had to finish investigating the goodies they had bought at the toy and pet stores. Hitting the second landing, the foursome had to quickly duck into a couple of linen closets so neither Ginny nor Ron would see the shopping bags the group was weighed down with. As the cloying scent of perfume and thundering feet on stairs faded, four heads popped out of two closets.

"Always knew you two would end up in a broom closet together," Fred teased.

"Yeah, you two are just to close to not be that close if you get our meaning," George said as he sent an overly exaggerated leer at Harry and Hermione.

"We would make a comment about you two being overly comfortable in a broom closet, but that would require us to use mental bleach. And sadly we ran out after Ginny and Ron attempted to flirt with us respectively." Hermione retorted.

"George, I don't know if we should be insulted on behalf of our siblings or disgusted by our fellow pranksters' minds." Fred said.

"I vote you should be both, but mainly disgusted on our behalf." Harry said, providing his own insight.

Tossing Buckbeak a squirrel Padfoot caught on the way back, the four Marauders-in-training opened the door to their hideout and placed (dropped) their bags on the bed within. A quick insertion of batteries as needed in the…research items and an explanation of everything saw teams made and a battle lines drawn.

Each dueler was armed with four weapons. A Nerf gun and a rubber band gun were deigned for long distance with a Lightsaber to be used after all the ammo was gone. And if or when the lightsaber was lost, a rubber chicken was to be used as either a dagger or means of surrender. The bed was picked as the "Dead Man's Club" for when someone was eliminated.

"Okay everyone, a few rules," Hermione said. "One, No head shots and that includes with rubber chickens. Two, no picking up ammo off the floor. Three, everything stays in this room. And four," Hermione slowly took aim, "it is every man for himself." She fired her gun hitting Harry square in the gut and setting the battle off as everyone dove for cover.

Twenty minutes later utterly spent from laughter and nursing their "battle wounds" with butter-beer, the Twins and the Ninjas were sitting on the bed. Fred and George were sitting with their backs against the headboard and were stealing the other's drink from his hand. Across the bed from them and lounging across the foot found Hermione using Harry as a pillow. Settled down, the conversation turned to the fake wands the Twins were developing.

"While I think a lightsaber would work, the rubber chicken would be more disconcerting and an easier change," Harry said into the pleasantly exhausted silence.

"Hmmmm that would work. We wouldn't have to figure out the size conversion. Plus, wizards would recognize the rubber chicken while being stumped by the 'saber" Fred and George said, thinking aloud to each other.

Rolling her head so she could see the Twins, Hermione's eyes lit up with a plot and a smirk appeared on her lips. "Gred, Forge, I will buy the first dozen chicken wands you make if you can make all of them look like Riddle's wand." She said.

All three boys looked askance at Hermione wondering what new plot was hatching in her scarily psychotic and brilliant mind.

"Why would you want them to look like that?" George asked.

As George finished his question, Harry started to truly laugh. "Hermione, you are a true evil mastermind. You even have the cat for it. I think we could get Dobby and Winky to even deliver the wands. That way no owls would be hurt in the playing of your prank." Harry said.

Blushing at the adoration and praise being bestowed up her, Hermione shrugged and tried to explain her idea. "I just figured it would serve him right if every time Wartyshorts went to use his wand he had to wonder if his spell would be exiting his wand or if it would be a rubber chicken." Hermione said, her face bright red as she tried to hide from the appraising looks the boys were giving her.

Glaring at the kissy faces the Twins were shooting at them, Harry stroked Hermione's hair as he whispered for her to kick the twins and telling her exactly how brilliant he thought she is.

"We can do it. We'll even give you a cohort discount and have them ready in a week. Just please don't kick us again. Your toes are sharp." George said.

A week later and the first of many batches of the chicken wands was sent to Riddle's hideout. When a scream was heard echoing from some distant place and a smirk appeared on Harry's face, the adults became a bit wary. It was not until later when a barking laugh and a howl of mirth filled Grimmauld Place that the adults became afraid. Anything that got those kinds of reactions out of Sirius and Remus was not good. The children though did not seem to worry nor care all that much. The Twins and the Sandwich Ninjas only cared about the rematch of their battle the next day. And if a sack of galleons and a note signed with a paw print and full moon drawn as the signature appeared in the twins' room, who were they to deny their "anonymous" benefactor(s) the joy of an excellent prank pulled off masterfully.

When the rematch of their 'saber/nerf/rubber chicken was planned, Sirius and Remus were invited to join. On the day of the (re) battle, the battleground had been expanded to the whole house. Hostages were going to be allowed with points awarded for who the hostage was and if you stole said hostage away from someone else. Double points were being offered if the hostage(s) was Ron, Snape, or Dumbledore. Triple for either of the female Weasley. As the clock in the hall struck noon the battle began. Outside the sounds of a waging war, the only noise echoing through out Grimmauld Place was a yell of "SPORK!"

_AN: So two chapters in one week. I actually split up the two chapters based off what I had originally written. For some reason I don't like posting "chapters" that are more than 3 to 4 pages long typed. Thank you for everyone who is reading this and leaving me comments, your cyber cookies are in the mail.  
Don't own and don't really care to. Would much rather be the "cool Aunt" that spoils the characters and returns them to their mom packed full of sugar._


	8. Never anger a Scotsman

_Disclaimer: Don't own, don't make money from, only doing this for giggles. Hope you enjoy and sorry it has taken so long to post. Stupid real life and creative stifling._

After the massive Nerf War, Harry and Hermione decided to lay low for a while and let things (Molly Weasley) calm down. Plus, with Molly still recovering from some of the pranks she accidentally (on-purpose) was hit with, the side effects alone were enough to keep the resident pranksters of Grimmauld entertained. The only time things potentially became tense was when the Hogwarts' letters came and it was "announced" that Ron was prefect.

"Congratulations Miss Granger. Though we have known you would make prefect since your first year," Professor McGonagle said.

"And the same to you Mr. Potter. Your position was not so definitive, but it is obvious your school mates respect you."

"Um…I am sorry ma'am, but what are you referring to?" Harry said, his brow scrunched in confusion.

"Your status as Fifth year Prefect for Gryffindor." McGonagle answered.

"Again Professor, but I think you are mistaken. Ron is the Prefect," Harry said, "Besides, Professor Dumbledore said the staff didn't want to burden me with more things this year. He said that was a reason Ron got the badges and I did not."

"*Cough* Badges? What other badges?" Minerva said.

"The Quidditch Captain and the Prefect position." Hermione answered for Harry.

As the two students watched, Minerva McGonagle began to splutter then her face became flushed. As she considered what her two (favorite) lion cubs had told her, she began to review her last few conversations with Albus. The farther back she went in her mind the more she muttered to herself, the more she muttered the thicker her brogue became. The moment she hit upon the conversation she knew was the catalyst to Dumbledore overruling her picks for Captain and prefects was the moment that Harry and Hermione realized the reason the British still have a healthy respect for Rob Roy. The Scottish are scary when they go beyond anger and become utterly enraged.

"**Albus Brian Wulfric Dumbledore!** Get your older than dirt bony arse down here right now!" McGonagle yelled for all of Grimmauld and half the world to hear.

"Yes Minerva? What did you need that you felt necessary to yell like a first year?" Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling. Though he appeared fast enough to have nearly splinched himself.

"Do Not Try that with me Albus. No amount of a guilt trip will work and you know that." Minerva said.

"Do you really think so little of me and our friendship that you believe I would attempt to guilt you?" Dumbledore asked with a wounded countenance.

"At this moment, you really do not want me to answer that. Besides, you are not going to distract me. What is this about Mr. Potter not being the fifth year Prefect or the Quidditch captain?" Minerva said, fists planted at her hips with her wand already in hand and toes tapping out the staccato of her anger.

"Answer me old man or you will be cut off." Minerva hissed when Albus took too long to (concoct an) answer.

Chocking on their tea from embarrassment and trying not to laugh, Harry leaned into Hermione and whispered, "I really did not need to hear that."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, that is worse than walking in on your parents or grandparents."

Both Harry and Hermione shuddered at the mental image that thought produced. Each glanced at Dumbledore and McGonagle and had to agree. There was only so much the mental chant of "they are celibate, they are celibate, they are celibate" could do to combat what Minerva had just said.

"Minerva, Minnie, Min, please let's not argue in front of the students. We can discuss this in my office back at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, trying to placate the irate Scotswoman.

"**SIRIUS!**" Minerva yelled up the stairs, "I am using your Study to have a discussion with Albus. YOU! The Study. NOW. That is the farthest from this room we are going. Now march."

As Minerva and Dumbledore exited the Kitchen, the household stumbled in trying to find out what was going on.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Not the ear, please not the ear. Owwwwwwwwww!" Dumbledore was heard yelling from the first floor landing.

"You asked for it not to be the ear." McGonagle replied gloating.

"That did not mean you had to yank me by my-" Dumbledore's reply was cut off by the slamming of a door.

"Okay, now what was that about?" Remus asked as everyone tried to either not blush or lose the blush they already had.

"Professor McGonagle, she…um…you tell them Harry," Hermione said, still not able to keep a straight face or stop the full body shudders afflicting her.

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically. "Professor McGonagle did not agree with a decision the Headmaster made regarding the new term."

"What? She wanted to make me Headboy?" Ron asked.

Once the epileptic seizures of laughter had calmed, Hermione said, "No, she wanted Harry as- Ow! Why'd you do that?" Hermione yelped when Harry pinched her underarm.

"She wanted to have me tutor a couple first years. Dumbledore did not agree." Harry said after shooting a look at Hermione.

A couple days later, McGonagle came to Harry and offered him either the Prefect badge or the Quidditch captaincy.

"You can your choice Mr. Potter. But I should warn you that a Ministry employee will be at the school this year. And as much as it pains me to say this, but your best decision is one that will keep you below their radar and your head down." Minerva explained.

"Thank you Professor, but I really think the Captaincy should go to Katie, Alicia, or Angelina. They are the senior players." Harry said.

Smiling with pride, Minerva nodded in acceptance of Harry's decision. As she passed him, her hand started towards his hair only to veer and pat his shoulder.

"So…we are in agreement?" Harry asked Hermione once the room was empty.

Nodding, Hermione said, "She is definitely our secret weapon. An irate nearly berserk-ing Minerva McGonagle set loose onto Snakeface would be brilliant. Terrifying but brilliant. A Howler of her alone could make his shat his pants."

"Definitely. She would play with him like a cat plays with a garter snake." Harry said.

Their laughter echoing through Grimmauld cause a Cheshire grin to split Minerva's face. Everyone else though suddenly had to fight instinct telling them to cower and hide.

:_That is why you do not anger a Scots. We don't get even, we simple end it…with a claymore and a kilt._: Minerva thought to herself.

AN: I just wanted to say that Albus would only be cut off from candy. Minerva was pulling his beard. And I had to mention Scots in a kilt at some point.

AN2: I realize I am bashing Ron and Molly quite a bit. It's not that I dislike them, it is more along the line that I do not like them. I find Molly smothering and Ron so think that he is just frustrating.


End file.
